


Pretty Boy

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Albert-centric fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, Derogatory Language, Homophobic Language, Like it's not graphic but it's not subtle, M/M, Molestation, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Oscar is gay, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Strike, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad, Slurs, Snyder is a real fucking asshole, They try to get the refuge shut down and snyder arrested after the strike, Underage Rape/Non-con, Whump, albert is pining over race, and has internalized homophobia, guess what happens, heed the tags please!, please watch the tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Katherine is trying to write an article to seal the case against Snyder. She asks Albert if he's ever been to the Refuge. Albert tells her. But they're kids working against a rigged system. What will happen?
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Oscar Delancey (one-sided and for like two seconds), Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> watch the tags please!!!! this whole fic is albert's pov

Katherine’s at the Distribution Center with us today, wanted to bring Jack a bagel.

I don’t know her too well, I kind of fade into the background, but for some reason she chooses to approach me after I buy my papers.

“I’m collecting testimonies for my article, Albert. To get Snyder proven guilty.”

“Nice.” I reply, focusing on trying to read the headline and not so much on her words.

“Have you ever been there before?”

“Yeah.” I grunt.

“And…?” She presses.

“He don’t even know my name, I was just another punching bag. No special punishments, I ain’t popular like Jack or Race.”

“That’s still-” She starts to say.

“I gotta go sell.” I interrupt, and briskly leave Newsies Square to head to my selling spot.

I don’t like thinking about my time at the Refuge.

What Snyder did-

“Paper!”

I manage to shout loud enough to drown out my thoughts, good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> homophobic slurs used in this chapter, mention of rape

No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about what Katherine asked me.

I hate talking about my time in the Refuge, but getting Snyder arrested might be worth it.

She’s at the Lodging House when I return from selling.

“Kath. I’ll tell ya.”

She looks up, confused.

“About the Refuge. We’ll go on the roof.”

And then I disappear to Jack’s penthouse, Katherine following behind me.

She takes out her notebook and pen, and I start rifling through Jack’s drawings.

“I’ve been in there five times.” I say, producing a drawing from the pile.

“Five?” Katherine asks, incredulous.

“Only about half as many times as Jack’s been in there. Anyways, first time was when I was thirteen. I been in there once at thirteen ‘til fourteen, once at fifteen, and three times at sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in two months.”

“How long was each sentence?”

“First one was six months, vagrancy. Stole at fifteen, got eight months but broke out after five. Dug a tunnel under the garden wall. The last three times… A couple of months each I think. I broke out the first time, Jack got me out the two times after that. I’ve been out for about six months or so now.”

Katherine hurriedly scribbles in her notebook.

“What are the conditions like in the bunk rooms?”

“Cramped and dirty. Rats and bugs, too many kids.”

“And day to day life?”

“Cleaning the building, or prayers with the nuns.”

“What were the guards like?”

“Mean for fun.”

“Did they ever abuse you specifically?”

“Loads of times. Hit me for the fun of it. For stuff like walkin’ too slow or sayin’ something slightly rude. And-They’d call me shit.”

“Can you elaborate?”   
“This ain’t a family friendly story.”

“All the better to get Snyder put away.”

“They’d call me whore, fag, queer. Stuff like that.”

“I-Albert-”

“It’s what everyone calls me.” I try to sound casual, but it’s hard.

“It’s not right.”

“Do you think it’s true, Kath?”   
“I-”

“Just answer.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to judge that of someone.”

I look at her for a second before continuing.   
“Well they think it’s fair. Snyder most of all. Calls me-he-he calls me pretty boy.” I stammer towards the end, embarrassed and humiliated.

“I’m so sorry, Albert.” Katherine says, and she sounds sorry.

I hand her the drawing.

“That’s his office.”

“I-”

“He made Jack watch, and when Jack has nightmares he draws them.”

“That’s-”

“Yeah, that’s me. Bent over the desk.”

I try and sound nonchalant, but I’m on the verge of tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

Katherine hugs me tight, and I find myself crying into her comforting arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Katherine wrote her article.

We grew closer as friends too, laughing and joking at Jacobi’s on the daily.

But when she finished her article, she wasn’t allowed to publish it.

Her father said no, only because Snyder pays him off.

The trial happens, and we all testify, but Snyder paid off the judge, jury, and lawyers.

Not guilty.

He was proved not guilty.

Even after the scars on Jack’s back, the burns littered around Race’s collarbone, my… story.

That’s what the lawyers called it.

A story.

Made up.

I want attention, need my attitude fixed.

Me, Jack, and Race, the ones who testified, we were all given sentences.

The Refuge won’t be closing, in fact it will be my home until I turn 21.

When I’m a “fit member of society.”

All three of us, rude and attention-seeking, needing a strong adult influence to steer us on the right path.

Katherine is crying when we’re dragged to the waiting carriage.

Crutchie and Spot holding their hats solemnly.

Davey and Sarah holding each other close.

Jack manages a smile as we’re led out of the courthouse.

I stare straight ahead, masking all emotion as usual.


	4. Chapter 4

We’re all sitting in Snyder’s office, he’s signing us in.

“You told. And look at all the good it did…” Snyder grins. “Each of you will be thoroughly punished, as I seem to recall threatening all three of you on many occasions what would happen if you told the press what goes on in this establishment. We’ll start with Higgins.”

Snyder grabs Race by his hair, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“You get the closet for a week, boy.”

Snyder shoves Race into the tiny closet next to the desk, Race screaming.

Race hates small spaces, and he hates being alone.

Solitary is hell for him.

“Go to bunk room three, pretty boy. I’ll come get you when I want you.”   
I leave the office, just in time to hear the sound of brass hitting skin as Snyder starts Jack’s soaking.


	5. Chapter 5

I wish I didn’t have feelings.

Emotions.

Any of that shit.

Most of the time I can pretend I don’t have feelings pretty easily, but it’s a lot harder in the Refuge.

I can hide behind muscles and Race’s cigar on the streets, but in the Refuge…

_ Weak. _

I don’t like thinking about it.

I block the Refuge out of my head, keep it locked away.

_ Fag. _

I like to be upfront and direct about things, no mushy feelings to get in the way.

Race always has his heart on his sleeve, he’s so easy to read!

Me, I’ve got a perfect poker face.

No one knows when I’m lying, when I’m sad.

And I like it that way.

I keep everything bottled up in my head, don’t let anyone know about my pain.

The Refuge is what broke me.

Snyder’s office is the only place you’ll see what I’m really feeling.

_ Scared, Pretty Boy? _

I can’t let him hurt anyone else, at least not in the way he hurts me.

Normally I keep all my feelings hidden, makes it harder to get hurt.

If I don’t have a heart it can’t be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he doesn't like feeling :(


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mind the tags please folks

I used to have feelings.

When I was thirteen.

But then I got sent to the Refuge, and I was taught what feelings do.

  
  


**THREE YEARS EARLIER**

  
  


“I can tell ya anything, right?” Oscar says nervously.

“Of course!” I reassure him, smiling. “Best friends forever.”

“I think I’m queer…”

My jaw drops, my heart beating fast as a train.

“Me too.” I say in shock.

And before I know it, he’s kissing me.

What?

I pull away, grossed out by the feeling of lips on mine (I’ve only kissed one person before, Race, we were 10 and wanted to try), but also repelled by Oscar.

Yeah, he’s my best friend, but I don’t like him like that!

Yeah, we’re both queers but that doesn’t mean we have to like each other!

“Ew!” I shout, wiping my mouth.

“I thought you said-” Oscar splutters.

“We’re best friends! Known each other since we was kids!”

This is obvious, why is he so dumb?

“HELP!!” Oscar screams suddenly.

“What’d ya do that for?”

“You turned me into a fag you little shit!”

Oscar punches me in the nose, and when I recover from the blow I see a tall man in a dark suit at the mouth of the alley.

I recognize him from Jack’s drawings, the Spider.

What do I do?

I can’t get caught, I can’t!

I’m frozen in fear, my throat is tight.

What will he do to me?

Beat me like Jack?

Throw me in a closet like Race?

“He’s a fag sir!” Oscar wails. “Tried ta take my money sir!”

“That’s not-”

Before I know it I’m in cuffs, Oscar smirking as Snyder drags me away.

And then in a flash I’m standing in his office, the man nearly laughing as he writes in a ledger.

“One of Kelly’s rats…” He mutters.

“I didn’t do anything wrong-” I try to explain, but Snyder cuts me off.

“Quiet, boy.”

It’s a mistake! I’m innocent, I didn’t do anything wrong.

This isn’t fair!

My face twists into a frown.

“I need to check you for weapons.” Snyder says, smiling.

He stands and gets up close to me.

“I don’t have any weapons.” I say.

My voice is shaking, I’m absolutely terrified.

Actually, it’s not just my voice.

My hands are shaking, my knees trembling.

Snyder thrusts his hands into my pockets, probing.

“I told you-”

“I said quiet!”

I start to cry as he does the inspection.

He’s touching me all over, I don’t like it.

It makes me feel gross and I hate how close he is.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he finishes.

“Room four, pretty boy.”

I’m still crying, unable to move.

“Fucking weak.”

  
  


**PRESENT DAY**

  
  


He told me that every day.

After six months, I knew I had to be better.

By the time I got out of the Refuge, my sentence over, I knew how to hide my emotions.

How to keep from crying, being weak.

Snyder would touch me and look at me and say things about me but I stopped crying over it about three months in.

He beat the weakness out of me.

But now it’s all rushing back, the emotions, the feelings.

I only feel in the Refuge.

I can manage myself with practice, but he always threatens Race.

Or Romeo, he’s only eleven!

I can’t let him touch them.

I can’t.

I have to protect them.

And when he talks about Romeo like that, I can’t help but beg.

Be weak.

Beg for him to touch me instead of my little brother.

He always laughs at that, calls me a whore.

Outside I can push it all to the side, but in the Refuge I can’t avoid it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, mind the tags! this chapter is heavy, please don't read if any of the tags are triggering for you.

Snyder throws Jack in the bunk room with me after several hours.

Jack is covered in bruises and cigar burns, and his naked torso is wrapped in blood soaked bandages.

Jack is still smirking, using his hoarse voice to mock Snyder.

Blood is dribbling down his lip and his breathing is raspy, I don’t know how he still has the energy to be an asshole.

I help him onto the bed I claimed, with him insisting that he’s fine.

“Pretty boy. Your turn.” Snyder says, smiling.

“I need to help Jack-”

“Or I take one of your friends? Little Romeo?”

I obediently follow Snyder, biting my lip to keep myself from showing emotion.

We make it to his office, he orders me to strip.

I do.

“So pretty…” He muses, circling me, practically fucking me with his eyes.

I almost hate this more.

The talking, the mental torture.

“Over the desk.”

I obey.

  
  


**THREE YEARS EARLIER**

  
  


“No!”

I can’t, the touching is already too much!   
I won’t let him see me naked, I can’t.

It’s humiliating, it’s disgusting, I can’t.

I’m screaming, sobbing.

He shoves a rag in my mouth to gag me, then rips my clothes off of me.

How am I supposed to fight him?

He’s older, taller, so much stronger.

I cry through the gag as he forces me over the desk.

He spreads my legs, the cold air is stinging my skin.

I try and kick out at him, but he’s pressed up against me.

Stabbing pain, I’m trying to scream but can’t.

He’s saying things, moaning, I hate it!

The tears don’t stop falling, he keeps calling me weak over and over again.

  
  


**PRESENT DAY**

  
  


He’s finally done.   
“You’re fucking disgusting.” He says, dropping me to the floor. “Ugh.”

“Your fault.” I grunt, channeling my inner Jack Kelly.

“Higgins is right behind that door, he heard everything.” Snyder points to the closet, and I wince.

Fuck.

“I know you like him.” Snyder whispers, getting close again. “You know you don’t have a chance. Whore like you.”

“I know, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

I pull on my clothes and go to room thirteen, the washroom.

I take a bath, then go back to the bunk room.

Jack is half-asleep, he offers to cuddle.

I curl up next to him, he wraps his arms protectively around me.

I let silent tears roll down my cheeks.


End file.
